


Of No Desire Of Mine

by Serenitea_Boyyo



Series: Of No Desire Of Mine Universe [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dark Will Graham, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), POV Alternating, Rating May Change, Slow Build, Teacher AU, Teacher!Hannibal Lecter, Teacher!Will Graham, and Hannibals crime scenes, mostly to fill the school
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27365857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenitea_Boyyo/pseuds/Serenitea_Boyyo
Summary: The one where Will Graham is a kinda rude history teacher. I love history but explaining WW1 was something I never want to do again, what a mess. ENJOY!!!
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Of No Desire Of Mine Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006974
Kudos: 38





	1. I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Will Graham is a kinda rude history teacher. I love history but explaining WW1 was something I never want to do again, what a mess. ENJOY!!!

Friday could not have come soon enough for Will Graham. By the time his last class started, he was already feeling the effects of being an overworked, underpaid public school teacher. His classroom full of tired and stressed teens has been considerably quiet for the first half-hour, most having fallen asleep as soon as the Do Now was over.

“Is there someone who can tell me why the U.S got involved in World War One?” Will gazed across his classroom, the looks of boredom rolling off the students in waves.  
He removed his glasses and sighed, “Anybody? Did anyone take notes, or do the reading?”

Some students shuffled in their seats while others looked across the room, clearly not having done anything the man had said. His eyes darted to his favorite student, who was intensely reading their textbook. He walked over to a part of the whiteboard and wrote in his messy scrawl; We were scared.

The kids were now re-awakened with newfound interest at what he just wrote. “The U.S was scared of the Germans and Mexico because they were threatening an alliance. Many banks had money in the outcome of the war. In the form of stocks and bonds,” his brow raised in excitement at the intrigue his students showed, “When the German army started to bomb merchant ships, that's when we finally entered the war, we went on the offensive, and it worked in our favor.”

Will decided, as a treat, he would give his students a worksheet for the rest of the class instead of his usual lecture.  
His favorite student, Abigail Hobbs, sat idly, barely working on the questions posed by the easy learning tool.  
He glanced down at his watch and let out a breath. “Pass up your worksheets, if you have not had a chance to finish them yet, do so for homework. The bell rings in two minutes, read chapter twelve if you haven’t already, and have a great weekend. I expect more participation on Monday.”

The class erupted into lazy chatter and groans from sitting in painful chairs for the better part of the hour. Will busied himself by straightening up his desk. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it usually was but he still needed the distraction. When the bell rang he did his usual routine of returning farewells and pushing in neglected chairs.

“Abigail, I expected more participation from you today. Is everything all right?” He looked up from turning off the projector to find Abigail still in her seat, book open and eyes wide with tears.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the cuffs of her sweater. “Yeah, everything’s ok Mr. Graham. Just caught me on an off day is all.” Her nose turned a blotchy shade of red from her swiping furiously at it with her sleeves.

Will handed her a box of tissues and said,” Do you want to move our sessions to tomorrow? I have a meeting at two but it should only take about thirty minutes if not less.” His mouth turned to a small smile, hoping to encourage his student to mirror him.

She looked up at him, tears on the verge of spilling, and shook her head. “No, Mr. Graham, it’s ok. Let’s just get on with it, sorry for-,” she motioned to herself, “all of this, I know you’re taking time out of your day to do this, so, thank you. Begin, please.” She gave her eyes one final wipe, took a deep breath, and turned to face him. His heart clenched at the sight of her face, he knew Abigail was having some difficulties studying at home, but the extent of it just hit him full force. No amount of makeup or conveniently placed scarves can hide the bruises her father gave her. It was such a shame that an amazing girl like her had to endure such pain. If he ever crossed paths with her father, Will would make sure that this never happened again.

“Abigail, are you sure you don’t want me to talk to Ms. Katz for you? I know what’s going on at home. He won’t stop at just bruises.” Her breath hitched at the thought of having to talk to anyone about her predicament.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m almost eighteen. I plan on moving out as soon as I can.” Her huff of determination almost made Will believe in her plan. With no job and no other family besides her mom and dad, it would take her at least a year if not two to scrounge up the money to make a down payment, especially in an expensive city like Baltimore.

“I know Ms. Katz can be helpful in that department as well. Don’t underestimate her connections,” he replied, adding a little humor to bring some life back to the room. “Just think about it.”

Abigail nodded and began her notes. The room grew into a comfortable silence, just the two of them working diligently in each other’s company.

Until Alana, dressed in a black and white polka-dotted blouse tucked into a red pencil skirt with her trademark red heels, stomped into his classroom.  
“Will, are you going to the faculty brunch tomorrow? I heard it was Hannibals' treat.” Her red lips stuck out in an expectant pout.

Will looked up from his desk, in the process of grading last periods worksheets.

His eyes barely met her chin when he uttered a small no. There is no use in denying that he and Hannibal Lecter did not get along. The smug Lithuanian always appeared to wear a smirk when Will was in a room with him, Will felt his eyes on him too many times, and when he would turn towards him their eyes would always meet, teasingly, as if mere eye contact were a game to be played, to be won.  
No, he and Hannibal Lecter did not get along and probably never will. The fact that he had invited him to brunch peeved him to no end.  
“Will,” she whispered. “you’ve already turned down his teachers’ appreciation week luncheon, people are worried that you two dislike each other.” Her voice was soft, soothing even.

“Alana, I do not enjoy talking about my social life in front of my students,” he motioned to Abigail, who was peeking up from her textbook every few minutes. “So if you could please respect my wishes and drop the subject, I would greatly appreciate the effort,” he said, only a few embers of anger flaring behind his lake blue eyes.

Alana doubled back in surprise. It is not every day that Will Graham puts his foot down on something so trivial as having brunch with his coworkers, but it worked. She sighed and replied, “Well I wouldn't force you to go, but promise me you will attend one of his gatherings soon. They’re not like anything out there.”

He believes it to be true, Hannibals' attire and his way of doing things were very Old-Worldesque. His three-piece suits were tailored to perfection and always in outrageous patterns and colors that, by all accounts, should not look good, yet Hannibal pulls it off.

While pondering the questionable fashion choices Hannibal partakes in, it takes Alana patting him on the back to notice that she was already leaving.

“Consider joining us at Hannibals' tomorrow Will. You look like you need a break,” Her tone turned from friendly to almost pitying, as she exited out of his classroom.

He most certainly needed a break. Last night Zoe had eaten something she wasn’t supposed to, and he spent half the night at the vets’ office, sitting on a stiff waiting room chair while her stomach was being pumped. He got home at three am, and by the time he woke up, it was already five-thirty.

“I finished my notes, Mr. Graham,” said Abigail, her hands moving to adjust her scarf from where it was slipping. He watched her as she got up from her seat and walked over to his desk, setting the worksheet down in front of him. He huffed out a 'thank you' and continued to grade the papers. She walked back over to her desk, pushed her chair in, and started to pack up her things, moving at an even pace. With a small grunt, she lifted her backpack over her shoulders and walked towards the door. She halted before her feet reached the threshold and spoke with newfound confidence, " I think you should go to Mr. Lecter's brunch tomorrow," her pale blue eyes shining in the fluorescent lights. "If not for Ms. Bloom or yourself, at least do it for me. I always picture Mr. Lecter's house as a vampires' castle with gargoyles and terrified roman statues surrounding it. It would be nice to have someone confirm for me." This small remark brought out a tiny genuine laugh from his pink lips, his mouth turned into a light smile, one he only used with people he was fond of.

"All right Abigail, if I go, will you speak with Ms. Katz on Monday?" He genuinely wanted her to seek help, and if having to attend a brunch with Hannibal was what it took, he'd go to a thousand lunches if it meant Abigail is taken care of.

Her head tilted from left to right as she thought, finally after what seemed like forever she nodded her head. "Have a nice weekend Mr. Graham, I expect to have details on every single gargoyle he has on Monday," her voice bouncing off the walls of the hallway as she left.

He waved her off and shouted a teasing You too after her. He sighed and looked at the papers in front of him. He only had ten more to go, including the one Abigail had handed him. If he sped through them, he'd probably be done within half an hour.

He knows he didn’t have anything planned for this weekend besides relaxing with his dogs, maybe taking them out for a hike up Ridge Trail. The water would be warmer now that it’s spring. It can wait until Sunday, he had to get through tomorrow first. He would have to swallow his pride and attend a social gathering. He shook his head at these thoughts and continued to correct papers.

On his drive home, he let his mind wander, not far but far enough so that the reality of his situation couldn't hit him full force. He could see Abigail, frightened by her father, and angry at her mother. Gracefully skirting around her dining room table and running up to her room, locking the door. Her eyes brimming with tears so fat, they would have no choice but to slip down her cheeks, staining her skin with salt. If he listened closely enough, he could hear her father's footsteps, rushing up the stairs after her and jiggling the door handle, commanding her to unlock the door. She screams at him to go away, to leave her alone. His knock on her door so thunderous Will unconsciously shuddered along with her, feeling her fear. He heard her mother, a victim in her own right, sobbing downstairs.

A family torn to shreds at the behest of one, Garrett Jacob Hobbs, a human disaster. A no-good drunk from what Will could tell from his first and only meeting with the cruel man. It was parent-teacher night, an event Will couldn’t excuse his way out of. Mr. Hobbs had walked in late, now Will didn’t mind lateness, he had had a few close calls with his alarm clock and was no stranger to it. It was the way Hobbs’ had crept into his classroom that he took issue with. He seemed to slink along with all of the other parents and guardians, not quite fitting in. When the mock bell rang Mr. Hobbs lingered longer than he had to. He even went out of his way to talk to Will. They only exchanged pleasantries and talked about tomorrow’s weather, or maybe it was about a World Series baseball game that would be on later tonight. Whatever it was, it didn’t distract Will from the smell of two-buck-chuck on the other mans’ lips, nor the bruised skin that stretched across his knuckles.

Will blinked and let out a gasp.

He was home. He looked at his watch and read the time: 6:30 pm. How long had he sat here? An hour and a half? An hour? He rubbed his face and let out a long sigh before unbuckling his seat belt, getting out of his old Volvo.

He heard his dogs before he saw them, just like any other day. He opened his front door once he did, seven different dogs sniffed and yipped up at him.

“Aw, I missed you guys too.” He bent down to pat their heads and got a few licks in return. He stepped through the doorway and took off his coat. The dogs darted out of the front door, barking and playing with each other.

Will wandered into his kitchen in search of something to eat. These days it looked as if his dogs ate better than he did. His lunch today was the rest of his lukewarm coffee and a couple of fortune cookies from his dinner the night before. He opened his fridge and sighed. He had a few slices of lunch meat, various condiments, a couple of bruising apples, a half a block of cheese, some carrots (although these were for the dogs), and an assortment of odds and ends he’d have to throw away by next week.

Will pulled out the meat, cheese, and carrots and set them on the kitchen counter. He looked around for bread and found it sitting on his small kitchen table. A ham and cheese melt would be a more than sufficient meal by his standards. He got to work on his dinner, turning on the stove and setting down a frying pan over the burner. Letting the pan heat up he pulled a small pot out of his cupboard and filled it with water, moving to turn on another burner before placing it over the fire. He took to his freezer, pulling out a pack of frozen peas and emptying its contents in the water. He placed his slices of bread into the pan with a bit of butter before swiftly washing his carrots and chopping them into small bite-sized pieces dumping them into the pot as well. His hands were a blur of movement and skin as he finished making both his and his dog’s meals only pausing to make some brown rice and to let his pack back in.

He ate in the relative silence of his dogs’ licks and chews around their bowls, happy as can be.

Will put his plate in the sink and ventured upstairs to take a shower. He took off his clothes and turned the faucet to the right. Will enjoyed his showers hot, practically burning. He enjoyed the way the nearly scalding water hit his skin, the way it left red marks but also dissolved any tension in his muscles. He stood under the steady flow of water from the showerhead, allowing it to run over his frame. Will quickly washed his hair and body, getting out of the shower before he got too pruny. He dried himself and put on some sweatpants and a soft cotton tee.

The shower combined with the glass of whiskey he just poured for himself made it easy for him to relax into his well-worn recliner, the soft snores of his dogs provided white-noise for his wandering mind to take a break. He shifted in his seat and gazed lovingly at the small warm bodies curled in their respective beds. He downed the rest of his whiskey and stood, stretching his arms to the ceiling.  
Will looked towards the clock sitting on the mantle, 11:05.

He shuffled to the kitchen, putting his empty glass in the sink before flipping the light switch off and heading to bed. His cold sheets slid across his warmer body, feeling like silk instead of the standard cotton blend he’d used all his life as he got into bed. He put his phone on the charger; an alarm already set for eight-thirty.

Will shuffled against his covers, turning his pillow over to get to the coolness that lay underneath. It wasn’t long until slumber found him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram and friend me on Discord! Discord is where I will post updates and such, I already created fanwork because I love myself, and this work already. Both are @serenitea.boyyo and Serenitea.boyyo9181  
> I appreciate all constructive criticism and feedback, but please don't be rude about it.  
> Please do not copy my work and publish it anywhere without my given consent!


	2. The Ghost Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Close your eyes, shut your mouth, dream a dream, and get us out, dream, dream, dream, dream, dream, dream...

Will blinked and let out a gasp. 

He was home. He looked at his watch and read the time: 6:30 pm. How long had he sat here? An hour and a half? An hour? He rubbed his face and let out a long sigh before unbuckling his seat belt, getting out of his old Volvo. 

He heard his dogs before he saw them, just like any other day. He opened his front door once he did, seven different dogs sniffed and yipped up at him. 

“Aw, I missed you guys too.” He bent down to pat their heads and got a few licks in return. He stepped through the doorway and took off his coat. The dogs darted out of the front door, barking and playing with each other. 

Will wandered into his kitchen in search of something to eat. These days it looked as if his dogs ate better than he did. His lunch today was the rest of his lukewarm coffee and a couple of fortune cookies from his dinner the night before. He opened his fridge and sighed. He had a few slices of lunch meat, various condiments, a couple of bruising apples, a half a block of cheese, some carrots (although these were for the dogs), and an assortment of odds and ends he’d have to throw away by next week. 

Will pulled out the meat, cheese, and carrots and set them on the kitchen counter. He looked around for bread and found it sitting on his small kitchen table. A ham and cheese melt would be a more than sufficient meal by his standards. He got to work on his dinner, turning on the stove and setting down a frying pan over the burner. Letting the pan heat up he pulled a small pot out of his cupboard and filled it with water, moving to turn on another burner before placing it over the fire. He took to his freezer, pulling out a pack of frozen peas and emptying its contents in the water. He placed his slices of bread into the pan with a bit of butter before swiftly washing his carrots and chopping them into small bite-sized pieces, dumping them into the pot as well. His hands were a blur of movement and skin as he finished making both his and his dog’s meals only pausing to make some brown rice and to let his pack back in. 

He ate in the relative silence of his dogs’ licks and chews around their bowls, happy as can be.

Will put his plate in the sink and ventured upstairs to take a shower. He took off his clothes and turned the faucet to the right. Will enjoyed his showers hot, practically burning. He enjoyed the way the nearly scalding water hit his skin, the way it left red marks but also dissolved any tension in his muscles. He stood under the steady flow of water from the showerhead, allowing it to run over his frame. Will quickly washed his hair and body, getting out of the shower before he got too pruny. He dried himself and put on some sweatpants and a soft cotton tee. 

The shower combined with the glass of whiskey he just poured for himself made it easy for him to relax into his well-worn recliner, the soft snores of his dogs provided white-noise for his wandering mind to take a break. He shifted in his seat and gazed lovingly at the small warm bodies curled in their respective beds. He downed the rest of his whiskey and stood, stretching his arms to the ceiling.  
Will looked towards the clock sitting on the mantle, 12:05. 

When had it gotten so late?

He shuffled to the kitchen, putting his empty glass in the sink before flipping the light switch off and heading to bed. His cold sheets slid across his warmer body, feeling like silk instead of the standard cotton blend he’d used all his life as he got into bed. He put his phone on the charger; an alarm already set for eight-thirty. 

Will shuffled against his covers, turning his pillow over to get to the coolness that lay underneath. It wasn’t long until slumber found him.

~+~  
He was anxious during the whole car ride. Will had finally given in and decided to confront Garret Jacob Hobbs. His gun sat heavily on his hip. Hair messed up from running his fingers through it. He got out of his car and marched to the front step. Before he could knock the front door busted open revealing Hobbs and his wife. Will could see the tears flowing down her face, her hands a vice grip on her husbands’ arm around her shoulders. 

“Please..” That was all she got out before crumbling to the ground in a bloodied mess. Her neck, open and wet, her eyes went clear, no longer here. Will rushed as fast as he could, kneeling into the overwhelming puddle of blood, shakily moving his hands to staunch the blood flow, but it was too late, she was gone.

He turned towards the door, still open and slightly swinging, barely hanging on by its hinges. Will shakily pulled his gun from its holster, he hadn’t practiced in months and was a little rusty. He blinked hard and tried to remember how to correctly angle his body. 

Whimpers could be heard coming from the kitchen, Will rounded the corner and came face to face with Abigail, weeping and begging her dad to just let go. 

“Garrett Jacob Hobbs! Let her go!” Will shouted. He was shaking so much, the blood on his hands made holding the gun difficult. Will looked back and forth between Hobbs and Abigail, they both were crying and for a second it looked like he might have let her go, but down came the knife. 

The bullet left his gun faster than Will thought it had. He had aimed for his chest but missed the mark by a few inches and the bullet struck his shoulder. For any normal man, a shoulder hit would stun or at least knock them down, but not Garrett Jacob Hobbs. There’s a term for him and it wasn’t ‘man’. He’s a beast and he had to be put down like one. 

One in his shoulder to discourage him, another two in his chest to bring him down, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Ten bullets to kill the beast. Hobbs lay against the cabinets, the fight leaving him. Will moved towards Abigail, her neck gushing, hot and red. He tried to hold her neck closed, his jitters and ticks made having a steady hold nearly impossible. She was losing consciousness, her gasps sounded like wheezing, her eyes went in and out of focus. 

“See?” a raspy voice called. Will turned slightly to face him. See? See what? He was the one who killed his wife, the one who tried to kill his daughter, see? They weren’t even on the same level, how could they see each other? Hobbs left soon after that with no follow-up words of wisdom, just a half-smiling corpse left to rot in the kitchen. 

Will moved his hands to wrap around Abigail’s neck. 

How had he not felt it before now? The gurgling turned into choking, her eyes watery and blank, the blood that once flowed in rivers and waves now a small creek, barren and dry. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no! Abigail, please stay with me! Please!” 

~+~

Will woke with a start, out of breath and covered in flop sweat. His dogs were on high alert, Winston even trotted up to the bed, laying his head on the soft mattress. Will reached out to pet him. 

“It was just a dream Winston, nothing to be worried about,” he murmured, still slightly out of breath. After a few more pets and reassurances Winston walked back to his bed in front of the fireplace. Will shrugged off his soiled cotton tee and tossed it to the ground. He tried to lay back down but his sweat had cooled to a cold wet mess. Will stripped off the sheet and grabbed his blanket that had fallen during his episode, curling into it. His living room was much cooler now, the spring heat turned off at night leaving a cold much akin to a warm winters’ day. Will tossed and turned, still shaken by his dream if you can even call it that. A glimpse into an alternate reality is what it felt like, a nightmare come alive. He decided to analyze it later, he’ll need to save his mental strength for tomorrow. 

Sleep pulled him under, this time with nothing showing face. Will was grateful for that, a few hours’ sleep is better than none after all. 

He woke up with his alarm blaring, proudly proclaiming that it was eight am. Will smacked the clock, knocking it to the floor. He grunted as he got up, raising his arms to the ceiling he stretched until he heard his stiff joints pop. 

Will pulled out his phone, some news notifications greeted him when he opened the screen. Mostly politics and feel-good stories but one story stuck out from the rest. 

RIPPER STRIKES AGAIN?: DMV AREA IN SHOCK AFTER LOCAL ACTIVIST FOUND DEAD. 

Last night local police were shocked to find local PETA activist Shirley Knotts dead and disemboweled on the front steps of an animal shelter in North Bethesda. A worker at the shelter found the body when checking in on the animals early this morning. “It was gruesome,” she said, “I could see all of her, every organ, her bones, just all of it.” The body of Ms. Knotts had been dissected into different parts, and placed in the middle of her body were small orange lilies. It is impossible to know what organs if any were taken. 

The police arrived on the scene about ten minutes later, so far it has not been confirmed as a Ripper kill but sources from Bethesda Police say “It’s that sicko all right, clear as day he butchered her.” 

Stay on high alert and contact Bethesda Police if you have any information.

Will closed the article. There was no doubt in his mind, it was clear as day, the Ripper killed again. Before Will became a teacher he was a policeman down in Louisiana, a case as high profile as a Ripper kill would’ve been his worst nightmare. 

Will walked to the kitchen and pulled out some coffee grounds, pouring them into his old beat-up machine. The small thing whirred to life, bringing with it the magical smell of coffee in the morning. He made himself a cup and walked to the front of the house, opening the door so his dogs could go out. He debated putting on some running clothes and getting some exercise in but it was already 8:15 and the drive would take the better part of an hour. 

He drank his coffee, he knew he didn't have enough time to make his dogs breakfast the way he had last night for dinner, begrudgingly he pulled out a bag of dog food and poured small portions into each bowl. He let the dogs back in, they ate their breakfast, and walked about the living room, sniffing whatever had caught their nose.

Will showered off last night’s sweat and dressed in clothes he deemed fitting for a brunch which was just a fancier flannel than normal.

By the time he was dressed and ready to go, it had just hit 8:50. He said farewell to his dogs and got in his car. You’re doing this for Abigail and Alana. It’s just brunch. He let out a deep breath and started his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't have picked a worse month for me to start a story than now. Expect an update in two weeks or so. Maybe sooner but I'm not too hopeful about it. Enjoy this slightly rushed chapter as a token of my gratitude. Thank you all for the kudos, they make this bleak month a little brighter!

**Author's Note:**

> Add me on Instagram @serenitea.boyyo  
> Please don't post my work without permission, be kind to me please! :)  
> Any constructive criticism helps me and is wanted by me just, again, don't be overly rude about it.  
> Hope you enjoy it!


End file.
